Chapter 3: Calculation
Bonaparte truly resolved to cooperate with Krumil.
Even after telling her staff, explaining it to the soldiers, and declaring it to Krumil herself, there had still been another option lingering in her mind until this very moment.
But now she had made her decision.
And once decided, she believed in acting without hesitation.
Bonaparte firmly grasped Krumil’s beautiful hand.
“Let’s draw up a plan at once.”
Bonaparte and her group were guided to Krumil’s residence.
It was the only building in the village made of stone, with a roof painted a vivid white.
They were led into the largest dining hall, where a map was spread across a large table, and everyone gathered around it.
To communicate, they all held hands, making the scene resemble some kind of ritual.
“Our objective is the City of Swordsmiths, located ten days from here. According to our scouts, the enemy numbers around ten thousand. One thousand are knights and cavalry, and nine thousand are infantry.”
Krumil addressed everyone once more.
“Our forces consist of ten mounted knights and four hundred infantry. Of those, fewer than a hundred are properly equipped.”
Abidod, one of Krumil’s retainers and a commanding knight, added.
He appeared to be around fifty years old, yet full of vitality, with short black hair and fierce green eyes.
“And… from beyond the Great River where the sun resides, from the land called France, we have been granted aid by Napoleon Bonaparte, who commands approximately five thousand soldiers. Furthermore, there are said to be twenty-five thousand more stationed at the beach.”
Bonaparte puffed out her chest.
“However… forgive me, but Bonaparte’s soldiers seem somewhat unreliable. There are no knights, and the infantry wear neither armor nor helmets.”
Another man beside Abidod spoke with concern.
Bonaparte found it insulting to be called unreliable by people who didn’t even know what guns were, but she did her best not to let it show through their connected hands.
“There is no need for concern. My soldiers will prove more useful than yours.”
Bonaparte fixed each of Krumil’s retainers with her sharp bluish-gray gaze.
“Soldiers are soldiers. Bonaparte commands thirty thousand. That is more than enough to defeat the enemy.”
“Queen Krumil, five thousand troops are sufficient to defeat ten thousand enemies.”
Everyone tilted their heads in confusion at Bonaparte’s statement.
“There are two reasons for advancing with five thousand. First, the road to the city is poor—no, there is no road at all. It is unsuitable for a large army. If we gather all forces from the beach now, we will miss the opportunity. Second, we want the enemy to see us as a small force and believe we are easy to defeat, luring them out of the city. If we approach in overwhelming numbers, they may choose to barricade themselves inside or burn their supplies and retreat. We must avoid that. The food in the city is essential to us, and we must obtain it intact. We will make them believe they can defeat us, then crush them in a single field battle.”
“I understand the reasoning, but with only half their numbers, can we really win?”
Abidod asked.
“Yes, we can!”
Bonaparte answered firmly.
She believed that an army ignorant of cannons and guns would collapse in panic the moment shots were fired.
Such arrogant calculation filled her mind.
“Bonaparte seems confident. I will trust her.”
“However, Your Majesty, do you truly intend to entrust everything to someone you have just met?”
Abidod spoke quietly so that Bonaparte’s group could not understand.
“There is no other choice.”
Krumil replied calmly but resolutely.
For her, there was no alternative.
She had only a small number of defeated soldiers left, and she had no choice but to rely on Bonaparte’s military skill and forces.
It was either stake everything she had left on this gamble or hesitate and wait to be captured by her pursuers.
After the meeting ended, Bonaparte and her subordinates were guided to the second floor of the house.
It was a guest bedroom.
Outside, the soldiers were pitching tents or wrapping themselves in blankets.
Being able to sleep under a roof was a welcome relief.
“Can we trust them?”
Berthier asked.
“Who knows. Trust doesn’t matter. If they’re smart, they’ll realize they have no choice but to follow me. There’s no way five hundred troops can handle ten thousand enemies.”
“Do you truly intend to fight on their side? What will you tell the soldiers? This is neither Egypt nor Africa. The soldiers will fight for France, but will you tell them to fight for some unknown queen in this incomprehensible land?”
Bonaparte removed her uniform and changed into nightclothes brought by Eugène as she replied.
“For now, we need water and food. No matter what, I have a duty to feed the army. And I bear responsibility for bringing them here. To obtain supplies, the fastest way is to align with the locals. So we cooperate. But not for long. Once we secure water and food, we leave this place immediately. As for the soldiers… just tell them we are aiding an allied tribe of France.”
Bonaparte poured water into a cup and drank.
“Berthier, have Admiral Brueys prepare to depart from this land.”
“Understood.”
“We march at dawn tomorrow. You may leave.”
Berthier and Eugène bowed and exited the room.
Once they were gone, Bonaparte lay down on the bed.
She had never imagined things would turn out like this.
An unknown land, an unknown country, and mysterious powers.
As those thoughts drifted through her mind, Bonaparte fell asleep.